The Rebel's Secret (Ride Hard Book 3) by Zoe Blake

Author:Zoe Blake
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Blushing Books Publications
Published: 2017-06-18T14:00:00+00:00

“THOSE TWO TROUBLEMAKERS? Yeah, they’re bunking here. Out now though. What does a pretty girl like you want with two no-goods like that?”

Michaela gave a quick prayer of thanks. It was the fifth boarding house she had been to, and time was running short. Brice surely had noticed her gone by now. She wasn’t absolutely certain he would come after her, but she couldn’t take the chance. She needed to track down Parcels and make him pay before she lost her chance.

“Never you mind. What room?” Michaela dropped several gold eagles on the dusty counter. The hard-looking woman shoved the stub of the cigar she was smoking in her mouth and snatched up the coins.

“Third on the left. Top of the stairs.”

Michaela dropped another coin. “I would appreciate you not mentioning my presence here.”

“I didn’t see nothin’,” said the woman with a smirk as she dropped one of the spare keys to the room on the counter before turning away.

Looking around to make sure she wasn’t being observed, Michaela swiftly made her way up the stairs. Locating the room, she listened at the door in case the woman running the boarding house had been mistaken. After a few heartbeats of silence, she gingerly placed the key in the lock and turned it. Opening the door, she squeezed through and quickly closed and locked it.

The stench of rank body odor and cheap perfume assailed her. The room was a slovenly hoard of discarded clothes, empty spirit bottles and piles of tobacco with crumpled rolling papers. Remembering her fastidious mother who was always concerned about her appearance and appearances, Michaela thought there must be a mistake. There simply was no way the mother she knew would be living in this squalor. Then she saw the photo. It was what appeared to be a wedding photo of her and Parcels. Michaela gripped the frame as she recognized the silk waistcoat and watch fob on Parcels. They had both been her father’s.

Sliding her hand down her hip, she pulled out her Colt and cocked it. Sure to be ready. Next she moved about the room, using the toe of her boot to shove piles of rubbish and clothing aside, ensuring there were no hidden weapons or any other evidence of guilt lying about, not that she thought she would be lucky enough to find something incriminating. But that was at least one good thing about tracking these two into the wild western frontier. Here the laws were not as strict as in the South. While they may have been reluctant to pursue her allegations of murder in civilized Georgia, she had a feeling, judging by Parcels’ shady reputation, no one would really give a damn if she shot the bastard stone cold dead for the same deed here in Texas.

Taking up a position with her back protected against the wall, she raised her Colt…and waited.

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